


The King is Not Dead Yet.

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [84]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 17:25:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10858638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Mr Waverly has an accident.





	The King is Not Dead Yet.

As he approached, Napoleon could see that Mrs Waverly was dabbing at her eyes with a sky blue handkerchief. His heart froze in his chest, assuming the worst had happened. He looked to the Section 3 agent, Ed O’Brian, who was standing nearby. He came over to Solo and explained that Mr Waverly was going to be fine. Mrs Waverly’s tears were obviously a release of tension.

The Old Man had taken a tumble down the stairs at home and, although it had only been the bottom four, he had hurt himself quite badly, and knocked himself unconscious. Napoleon handed Mrs Waverly the cup of coffee he’d gone in search for. She accepted politely, but placed it on the table beside her.

“O’Brian tells me he is going to be okay,” he said, sitting down beside her.

“He’s broken his leg and his wrist,” she explained. “It could so easily have been a lot worse. I could have lost him and it would have been such a terrible way for him to go. He has been surrounded by danger for almost his entire life. It would have really annoyed him if he had been bested by a staircase.”

Napoleon smiled. In his mind’s eye he could see the look of irritation on his boss’s face.

“It would take a lot more than fall to defeat Alexander Waverly,” he told her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was back at work in two days. He’s like my partner in that regard.”

“I wish you were saying that in jest,” Mrs Waverly replied, returning Solo’s smile. “One day he might realise he’s not as young as he once was.”

“I doubt it,” Napoleon said, with a laugh. “I know it’s probably wrong for me to ask, but what was he like when he was younger?”

Mrs Waverly reached into her purse and pulled out an old picture of her husband, taken when he was younger. She handed it to Napoleon, explaining that she carried it everywhere.

“He was a lot like you,” she told him. “Without all the women, of course. He was, and still is, brave, funny, and handsome. Although we’ve both aged, to me he will always be that man in photograph. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

Mrs Waverly reached for her handkerchief once again as the tears returned. She had heard her husband cry out as he had fallen, and had found him lying so still at the bottom of the stairs. She’d been certain there and then that he had been taken from her. She’d immediately called for one of the agents who were guarding the house and he’d been able to assure her that he was still breathing. 

A doctor stepped into the waiting room and told Mrs Waverly that her husband was settled into a room and she could go and sit with him.

“He is still sleeping,” the doctor explained. “But I believe he will be back with us soon.”

“Well now,” said Mrs Waverly, standing up and drying her eyes. “He will want to see a smiling face when he wakes up.”

As she left the waiting room, accompanied by O’Brian, Napoleon breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He couldn’t let Mrs Waverly see, but the thought of losing Mr Waverly had scared him badly. Everyone knew he was the heir apparent for the Old Man’s job, but he wasn’t ready. He needed more time to get used to that future.


End file.
